


Monster

by murderousfiligree



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Gratuitous Lady Gaga Reference, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 22:49:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murderousfiligree/pseuds/murderousfiligree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don't call me Gaga. My name is Dib.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We Might've Fucked

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written on 10/8/11.

It was probably a bad idea. As a matter of fact, I was positive it was a bad idea–I'd never have even considered attending if Zim wasn't going to be there. I knew he was up to something.

It'd been five years since he came here. To earth, I mean. And I'd managed to thwart his attempts to destroy it thus far–but I was always on my toes. I could never rest. Earth was never safe. I couldn't destroy him, and he couldn't destroy me; we'd been in a virtual stalemate for months. It was driving me crazy. Absolutely crazy.

I knew this big party was his chance to get the entire sophomore class in one place. He hated them almost as much as I did, and I had half a mind to abandon my peers to their own fate. I could have been at home, curled up on the couch, watching the latest episode of Mysterious Mysteries. I shouldn't have been standing on this girl's front porch, peering in at the mass of scantily clad teenagers thrashing around to the incessant throb of techno music. They all deserved to be sent to the alternate dimension with a terrifying moose, or whatever else Zim was planning. I shouldn't have had to save them.

The door was unlocked. I walked in, despite myself.

The music was deafening, and I pushed my way through the throng with gritted teeth. I kept my head low. I hadn't been invited, and I didn't want to get kicked out. Not before I found Zim.

Neon lights were flashing, and the multitudes thrashed about as a single entity. Couples were convinced grinding was a valid form of dancing. Singles formed leaping, fist-pumping groups who flailed and crashed inelegantly into one another. Speakers caused the walls to vibrate; the smells of sweat and alcohol hung thickly in the air. The heat was suffocating. Zim was nowhere in sight. Someone shoved me. I stumbled, detaching myself from the crowd.

A blonde girl was sitting on one of the amps, chugging a beer. Her face was flushed, legs astride, and she seemed to be getting off on the corner of the speaker. She was obviously underaged, along with most of the guests, but no one seemed to mind. The girl closed her eyes and let her drink fall to the floor–her jaw slackened and her toes curled into her pink flip-flops.

Disgusted, I started towards the bar. As I collapsed onto one of the wooden stools I remember thinking how ridiculous it was that this girl had a bar in her house. Then again, she was the richest girl in our grade–she probably had diamond wineglasses and golden mugs to go along with it. But she apparently couldn't afford a proper bar tender–a young partygoer was serving out drinks. The teen smiled lopsidedly, vodka in one hand and ale in the other. I averted my eyes.

"Hey. Hey, aren't you that, that Dib kid or whatever?"

I looked up.

"Who the hell invited you, weirdo-Dib-kid?" He smiled, pleased with his insult. "Freak."

I raised an eyebrow. "You're drunk, you know."

The teen furrowed his brow. "Yeah, well at least I'm not  _weird_." Satisfied with this, he took a swig of vodka. "You…sh'try this…'s great."

I rolled my eyes. I swear some of them hadn't aged a day since elementary skool.

"Hey, what's the matter  _Dib_? You too chicken to try any beer?"

I turned towards the owner of the voice. It was a dark-haired girl. I couldn't recall her name–Sarah or Sally, or something like that. "No, I have something important to do that alcohol will interfere with."

"Lemme guess–chasing  _aliens_!"

I opened my mouth and closed it again.

"Loser!" she announced, sipping her beer. "You're a pussy. A weirdo, alien-chasing pussy."

A few people gathered around her, voicing their agreement. My face was growing hot–Zim was still nowhere to be seen. I wasn't sure if I was going to get out alive.

"Loser!" another girl added, throwing some sort of food in my general direction.

A few more began to join her. The music was rising to a deafening crescendo, and my head was beginning to throb. I knew there was only one way out.

"Give me that," I snapped, snatching an unopened can of beer from Sarah-or-Sally's hands. The crowd looked at me expectantly. The can opened with a hiss–I took a sip and tried my best not to gag.

The crowd cheered, but swiftly resumed their regular partying activities. For the time being, I was forgotten. I took another sip of the beer. It wasn't half bad.

"Where's Zim?" I asked myself dejectedly. The music droned on. I took another sip.

Before I knew it, my can was empty, and I was seeking out another. I was five beers in before I caught sight of him, skulking in the shadows, violet eyes shining brilliantly under a black light. He looked about as happy to be there as I was with spindly his limbs crossed and wig askew. I waved eagerly. To my surprise, he started in my direction.

At last! I could do what I had come here to do. But thinking through alcohol was like thinking through syrup. I was scrawny, sixteen, and had never so much as touched a beer. I was drunk, and I couldn't remember what the hell I had come to the party for. Frustrated, I polished off my latest can of beer, as if hoping it'd make everything clear. It didn't. Zim was beside me now.

"What are you doing here, Dib-Monkey?" he asked disdainfully. "I almost thought better of you."

"Damn you, Zim!" I hiccupped. "There was something important…I…You'll never get away with this!" Something about his condescending look infuriated me. "You…you  _jerk_!"

Zim smiled–his strange, pinkish teeth flashed in and out of my vision as the strobe light pulsed behind me. His height made him somewhat less intimidating–he barely reached my shoulder now. I wondered for the billionth time in my life how no one else noticed Zim was an alien. Everyone in this city–no, on this  _planet_ , was too goddamn stupid to notice. It made me angry all over again. I needed another beer.

"This…alcohol has a strange effect on you Earth-Monkeys," Zim noted. "It makes you all…stupid."

"Are you calling me gay?" I blurted. I was drunk, but even then I recognized that that made absolutely no sense. Lady Gaga started blaring on the speakers.

"Eh?"

"I love this song!" I slurred, quickly changing the subject. I really hated the damned song. But somehow the opening line was burned into my unconscious, and in my half-coherent state I was compelled to sing along. "Don't call me Gaga," I began.

Zim's eye twitched.

"Don't call me Gaga," I repeated. "My name is Dib." I giggled at the ingenuity of my joke.

Zim's calculating gaze was anything but amused. And for a split-second, I was petrified. Zim wasn't that frightening, and I'd never been afraid of him before. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe I witnessed a terrible idea form in that conniving mind of his. Either way, the moment passed, leaving me with a pit of uneasiness in my stomach. I resolved that more alcohol would fix the situation, and scanned the bar for an abandoned drink.

"You," Zim hissed, "are stupid. More so than usual. Too stupid to interfere with my brilliant plan." Some faint part of me registered that what he had just said was very bad, and I should probably say something clever and intelligent in response.

"I need more beer," I announced instead.

"Yes, yes…of course you do." He smiled again, conjuring a glass from seemingly nowhere.  _Don't drink it,_  a distant part of myself warned.  _Don't you dare drink it, you stupid, stupid idiot!_

I hesitated.

"Drink it," Zim commanded. "It is… beer."

That was all the convincing I needed. I took the glass and drained it.

The colors in the room instantly blurred together–the music deepened, slurred, and fell out of sync with the strobe light. The room began to spin. Faces were indiscernible–laughter and chatter was unintelligible. The room tipped on its axis, and I stumbled. The chair fell out from beneath me.

And the next thing I knew, I was waking up in a foreign bed, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling, my head throbbing like it'd been hit repeatedly with a shovel. I groaned. The light hurt my eyes. I sat up, clutching at my head. Save for the four-post bed, the room was completely empty. I looked down, realizing I was naked. "What the hell?"

Staggering to my feet, I began to gather my clothes. They were strewn around the room–my shirt was torn, and upon a second glance at my chest, I noticed quite a few gashes. Wounds of varying degrees appeared all over my body–most of them had scabbed over, but a few were still oozing blood. The sun had risen, the girl's house was still in tact–Zim hadn't destroyed the world. So what had he done?

I pulled my trench coat on, scanning the floor for my glasses. I swallowed hard. My body ached everywhere, my mouth was dry, and I felt completely disgusting. I found my glasses miraculously undamaged, and rushed down the stairs as fast as my pounding hangover would allow. I was never touching alcohol again.

A few teens were still loitering downstairs. Their faces scrunched up in disgust at my appearance. "Ew, what is  _he_  still doing here?"

One girl made a kissy face at me. "Can't hold your alcohol, huh  _Dib_?" Another laughed. "Yeah, I guess you can't help how you act when you're wasted, but, I didn't know you swung that way, loser." "Where's your boyfriend, Dib?"

My face grew suddenly hot. "What? What are you all talking about?" I demanded. "What happened?"

"You mean you really don't remember a thing?" a girl asked. It was Sarah-or-Sally. I turned towards her, exasperated.

"No! No, I don't remember anything–someone must have slipped something in my drink. Last night is a total blank." I lowered my voice. "Please, tell me what happened."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why should I?"

"Please," I begged, "I need to know. My dad's probably worried and I've got to get home to my sister and–"

"Calm down, freak," she sighed. "Like, seriously. It'll be all over Facespace anyways. I'm sure someone took pictures."

I wanted to punch her, but I restrained myself. Barely. "Please. I will leave you alone, and never  _ever_  talk to you again, if you just tell me what happened to me last night."

She considered this. "Fine."

I exhaled, relieved.

"You were snogging with the other weird kid. The green one."

I stared at her for a second. I almost laughed. "Wh-what?"

"You were all over the green kid. He kept trying to push you off, but…" she smirked, "you kept coming. I think a fight broke out, or something, and you guys ended up upstairs." She looked me over. "You still a virgin, or what?"

My mouth hung slack. I was sure my face was glowing red. She had to be kidding. There was no way those words had just left her mouth, in that order, with that connotation. "Ex-excuse me?" I managed to stutter.

"Hey, it's your business, but…"

"No. There is no way in hell I was doing… _that_ with Zim. I hate him!" I turned towards the other kids. "She's kidding, right? You all know I hate Zim, there's no way, I'd…I'd…"

My classmates were looking at me, amused. If there was ever a moment I wanted to die, it was right there. Sarah-or-Sally was dead serious.

I bolted out of that house like a frightened deer. I was shaking all over. My head throbbed incessantly. This was worse than Zim destroying the world. The alien could have taken my goddamn virginity and I didn't even remember it–and yet…she said  _I_ was all over  _him_? No… it had to be the other way around. No matter how drugged I was, I would never–I shuddered at the thought–kiss  _Zim_.

It began to rain, and I was soaked by the time I got home. I kicked off my black boots and opened the door, glancing furtively through the entryway. Gaz was on the couch playing video games, as per usual. She didn't even look up when I walked in. I hurried past her, and was almost to the stairs when–

"Son, where have you been?"

 _Shit._  I turned around, running a hand through my disheveled hair. "I was out hunting for aliens, dad…" I swallowed hard. "I got into a fight with one, I swear, I…I'm sorry I'm late."

My father didn't seem to buy my bullshit–but he was thankfully too busy to actually investigate my claim. "Very well, son…but don't do it again."

"Yes, sir," I sighed, relieved. It almost hurt me that he didn't care enough to worry–that he didn't ask why my clothes were ripped, why there was blood on my coat…I suppose he simply didn't look at me long enough. I knew he was busy. I should have felt lucky that I'd gotten away with it, but I didn't.

Frustrated, I started up the stairs.

When I reached my room, I immediately collapsed onto my bed. I was exhausted but my mind was restless.

" _You were snogging with the other weird kid. The green one."_  I buried my head into my pillow and groaned. It couldn't be true. There was no way I would ever let my lips get anywhere near that alien. Near that  _monster_.


	2. He Ate My Heart

_Four spindly metal arms were trying to push me off. Irken claws dug into my flesh, and I cried out—but I felt no pain. I was invincible. Nothing could touch me like this. I was king of the world. I was God. My body acted on its own—my mind was long gone, and I thus pursued my darkest desire with vehemence._

_Lips crushed clumsily together, and a serpentine tongue strangled my own. My clothes had been discarded by now, and I fumbled drunkenly with his pinkish-red uniform. He was still struggling. I stroked his antennae and this seemed to mollify him._

_His skin was rough and smooth all at once. I was in sensory overload. I relished the pain, the pleasure, trapping the smaller body beneath mine. There was a blur of movement—incredible tightness, and then ecstasy._

_I collapsed onto him, moaning. He remained for only a moment before slipping out from beneath me. There was the sound of a window opening, and I was alone._

* * *

My alarm clock jolted me awake. I had forgotten to turn it off—it was Saturday, thank God, so I had plenty of time to muse upon the incredibly fucked up thing I'd had the misfortune to dream. I slammed my hand on the snooze button, quickly disabling the irritating device. I sat up and cradled my head in my hands.

"Goddamn it," I groaned, exasperated. It was seven in the morning and there was no way I was getting back to sleep. I let loose a string of violent curses, stumbling out of bed and over to my desk. My eyes rested on the photographs and newspaper clippings on the wall. Recently, it'd been covered with nothing but bits on alien conspiracies, and the photographs consisted almost entirely of Zim.

I swallowed hard. He seemed to be watching from every picture—there were hundreds of eyes glaring down at me. I was overcome with the sudden urge to tear everything off my wall—to purge myself of the alien's presence. But I remained in my seat, having a ferocious staring contest with the multitude of photographs.

It suddenly occurred to me that my dream was not a dream at all, but a memory. It was a terrifying thought, but perfectly plausible.

_You still a virgin, or what?_  I dropped my gaze to the floor, ashamed.

"All right, Dib," I said quietly. "You are going to evaluate your own relationship with… _him_." I couldn't even bring myself to say his name. It was pathetic. "He's been here for five, nearly six years. All you've done is try to stop him from destroying your planet. You've hated him each and every day since his arrival." I glanced up at my wall of photographs. "You…sneak into his house, you take photographs, you post them on your wall, and you follow him to the point where it could be considered stalking. That's the truth, pure and simple. It sounds bad when I put it that way, I know, but, technically, that's what you do." I paused. "You've changed a lot. You're not the eleven-year-old loser that you were when Zim first came to Earth. You're more intelligent. You're more mature. You're the  _sixteen_ -year-old loser who's still chasing the same goddamn alien. It's borderline obsessive. You've grown out of a lot of your stupid childhood habits..." I paused again. "Well, except for talking to yourself. You still do that.

"And have you ever once had a girlfriend? No. That isn't exactly your fault, though—no one of the female gender has even shown remote interest in you. Or the male gender, for that matter. You've never been attracted to anyone in your life. You're a hormonal teenaged male. It isn't totally unusual that you would be having weird dreams about sex…with an alien." I winced, lowering the volume of my voice considerably. "Then again, that girl at the party and the rest of the skool kids claim they saw you make out with Zim. So what? You were drunk! Zim slipped something in your drink, and after that point, your actions were not your own fault. If the whole skool thinks you're gay, fine. I mean, if being attracted to a male of a totally different species is even considered gay. What is that, xenophilia? God, I even know the name for it."

My voice trailed off. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the monster on the wall. He was in his disguise, of course—but I've seen him without it, and that was enough for me to imagine those ruby red eyes and slender antennae. His body was lithe and delicate; his features were sharp and angular. Only in his eyes did he command any true authority—in his eyes and in his shrill, domineering voice.

For the first time I let myself accept it. I was attracted to Zim.

To even admit it mentally sent me into throes of despair. It was too clichéd, too ridiculously stupid to be attracted to one's greatest nemesis. There had to be some biological block, some important gene that I was missing which prevented one from feeling anything but abhorrence for one's enemy. Aggravated, I leaped up from my chair and began to tear down the photographs and news clippings. The paper tore with a harsh ripping sound, leaving behind much of the tape that had fastened it to the wall. I jumped up, reaching for the highest photos, crushing everything into a compact wad of trash. I attacked the remaining strips of paper with vigor; in merely a couple of minutes my walls were bare. I was breathing heavily. Tears pricked at my eyes.

"Goddamn it, Zim," I whispered.

I tossed the papers into the wastebasket, suppressing a scream.

* * *

Somehow I ended up on his doorstep, hand poised and ready to knock. I fingered the scab on my cheek, shifting from one sore leg to the other. The yard gnomes watched me with unrelenting scrutiny, and it occurred to me that I should simply turn back. I didn't need closure. That night could remain a mystery—I would channel all my confusion and frustration into hatred. Hatred was an incredibly useful thing; I could use it to fuel my desire to destroy Zim, to save the earth, to stand alone against my peers. Yes, that seemed like the smartest thing to do. I should turn right around and go home, never to think of the incident again.

I knocked on the door.

A few moments passed. I considered running. It wasn't too late to run. I could just turn around, sprint, and never look back—

The doorknob began to turn. Zim's robot, complete with dog costume, peered out from behind the door. I stared at it. It stared back.

"I need to talk to Zim," I managed to choke out.

The robot lingered for a moment. "Okey dokey!" it finally chirped, swinging the door open with zeal. "I'm making waffles!" it explained, pulling him in through the doorway. "Want some?"

"Um, no thank you, I—"

"Come have some!" it squealed eagerly, dragging me into the kitchen with strength disproportionate to its size.

"You're a very cute robot-thing and all, but I need to talk to—"

"I  _love_  waffles," it insisted.

I looked around desperately for Zim. "Listen, uh, I'll have some waffles, sure— "

"Yay!" the robot exclaimed.

"But you need to go find your master first. Can you do that for me?"

It shrieked in sheer delight, darting eagerly out of the kitchen to fulfill my request. I sighed and sat down at the table. I glanced at one of the plates stacked with waffles. I'd never been less hungry.

Zim's house was quiet—eerily so. The tiles and walls gave off the impression that they were totally empty. I was disturbed by the notion that the entire house was simply an illusion—perhaps made of cardboard, or plastic. A complete sham. If I were to open the fridge, I would find no food: in the cabinets, no supplies. It was an irrational thought, of course, but the most irrational of thoughts are often the most perturbing. I shifted in my seat uncomfortably.

"Dib-worm?"

I jumped, turning towards the kitchen door. Zim was glowering at me, arms crossed, violet eyes narrowed and accusing. "How did you get in here?"

"Your uh…dog let me in," I explained.

"Oh."

We stared at each other for a moment.

"So," Zim finally began, "what do you want?"

"I uh…don't exactly remember what happened last night," I said, voice strained. "I was wondering if you did?"

The alien's eyes narrowed further. "Of course you don't, you stupid, revolting worm. You  _defiled_ Zim! You forced your  _filthy_  earth-monkey  _intercourse_  upon me! Against my will! I should liquefy your guts for touching the greatness that is  _Zim_!" he spat indignantly.

"Hold on, hold on," I hissed, anger stirring in my gut. " _You_  were the one that slipped something in  _my_  drink! I would never have done what I did without whatever drug you gave me!" I was fuming. This was all Zim's fault and I wanted to kill him. "What the hell did you even give me, anyways?"

" _Zim_  did not  _want_  your  _disgusting_  advances!" the alien snarled. "I merely wanted you out of the way! The person who gave me the substance claimed it would render you useless and brain-dead for my purposes!"

"What did you give me?" I repeated, seething.

"The drug-human called it…ruffies."

I gaped at him. "You gave me…the fucking…date rape drug."

"The amount I used was miniscule. And I did not intend to use it for your so-called 'rape' purposes!" Zim hissed. " _You_  attacked  _me_!"

I threw my hands up in the air, exasperated. "I didn't know what the hell I was doing! You obviously don't know anything about human physiology, Zim, or you would have known damn well what was going to happen when you gave me that drug!" I leapt to my feet. "And you know what? From what little I remember,  _you were fucking going along with it_! At least for the second half!"

Zim looked furious. " _Liar!_  You repulsive, stinking worm! Your memory is obviously flawed! Zim would never engage in such a  _revolting_  act with a low-life  _earth-monkey_!"

"Asshole!" I screamed.

"Big-head!"

"Jerk-off!"

"Dib-stink!"

"Alien scum!" I was nose-to-nose with him now. We were both livid. My lungs were heaving. I was honestly ready to murder him, right there. Screw evidence of aliens, screw everything. He was just as good dead as he was alive.

I honestly have no idea who kissed who first.

Granted, it was probably me, because I know more about the human act of 'kissing'. But I wouldn't have put it past Zim to do a little research on the subject of human mating rituals after our first encounter. Regardless of who initiated the action, I couldn't find it in myself to stop.

Our teeth clashed awkwardly and I nearly gagged on his tongue. I couldn't help but think I was a much better kisser when I was drugged. We stumbled towards the living room, breaking apart briefly.

"I hate you," Zim hissed ferociously.

"I hate you too," I growled, shoving him down on the couch with an enthusiasm I didn't realized I possessed. I stopped myself from thinking. The more I thought, the more absurd I would find my own actions and the current situation. The more I thought about it, the more likely I was to get up and leave. So I didn't think. I tossed my coat on the floor and dived into the kiss.

The unusual taste was not entirely unappealing; there was an unpleasant texture, but it was at the same time painfully arousing. I removed my shirt and shoes, placing my glasses on the floor. Zim began to discard his own clothing, scowling crossly all the while. I licked my lips and kissed him again.

Soon we were completely naked, save for Zim's gloves. Despite the fact that my tongue had been down his throat five seconds previously, he appeared averse to directly touching my skin. Sighing irritably, I stared in sick fascination at the bizarre creature beneath me. At first I thought he lacked genitalia all together, and wondered in a flash of panic how my drunken self had managed to have sex with him. Then I noticed a small slit, hardly larger than a dime, in the required area.

"You have a  _vagina_?" I blurted. My inner scientist was initiating a coup d'état against my hormonal teenaged urges. I was genuinely interested. This was one part of Zim's race I could have never hoped to learn about before. And now…

Zim's expression was murderous. "It doesn't matter, filthy human—you do not  _deserve_  to understand the superior Irken bodily function!"

The brief rebellion of my scientific self had been ruthlessly oppressed, and the horny teenager resurfaced with renewed vigor. What the hell was I doing, asking about his reproductive system? The only thing that mattered was that there was a sexual organ that I could effectively have intercourse with. I had a boner that was screaming for attention.

I kissed him roughly and set my hands to work widening the small opening. He gasped sharply against my mouth, squirming slightly. Remembering my dream, I tore off the wig and tossed it aside.

Zim stiffened. No doubt he suspected I was trying to photograph him—it occurred to me that I should probably guard myself against any of his surprise attacks. Forcing my paranoid thoughts aside, I stroked an antenna with my free hand. He melted beneath me, moaning. I smirked. He wasn't so powerful, so vociferous any longer—below me he was powerless, and I enjoyed the feeling of victory for once. For months, we had been even, and I was now quite literally on top.

I entered him, inhaling sharply.

He was too fucking tight for words. My mind threatened to collapse into a gravitational singularity that would inevitably pursue and devour all sexual pleasure with the same zeal that a starving lion devoured a carcass. I rocked my hips. I whimpered as Zim's claws curled into the fabric on the couch. It was ecstasy, and I completely lost myself in it; pleasure radiated from my groin up into my gut, filling my body with a sort of giddy elation. The cadence of my motions was rising. Zim let loose a low hiss and suddenly our positions had flipped—I stared up at him, confused, horny, and angry. My dick was not inside him and therefore something was terribly wrong with the current situation. I wrapped my legs around his waist and struggled to pull him back down, digging my nails into his back in frustration.

"You humans…this 'sex' is a weak spot of yours, isn't it?"

At that moment I was ready to agree with anything he said, as long as the result involved my favorite bodily appendage ending up inside of him. "Yeah, sure, whatever, Zim." I rolled my hips again and Zim cocked his head at me. He was still wearing the contacts, and I secretly wished he'd take them out—he looked better with his outlandish crimson eyes.

"You think of it on average every eleven minutes, I have learned. When offered it you are much too willing to comply. You are…more obedient."

"Not now, Zim," I whined. I had a boner like no teenaged male had ever had a boner before. It was transcendental horniness. I was going to die if I wasn't having frantic sex with something soon.

Zim grabbed hold of my erection with a gloved hand, watching my reaction with malicious curiosity. I arched my back and nearly screamed.

"Interesting," the alien noted, and began stroking the organ. My mouth opened and closed like a landed fish. My hips moved of their own accord. I suddenly lost the ability to speak.

"Very interesting. Yes…I should have thought of this before."

At that moment I could have cared less if Zim was plotting my imminent demise. As long as he kept touching me, I honestly didn't care—which is stupid of me and I'm ashamed to admit it. But for never giving a hand job…he fucking  _knew_  how to give a hand job.

At the orgastic apex of my experience, I cried out. I'm sure everyone in the city must have heard me. Shuddering, I closed my eyes, sinking gently into the burgundy couch. My peaceful disposition began to fade once I had adequately regained my cognitive abilities and realized I had just  _had sex with a fucking alien_.

"Filthy earth-monkey goo," Zim said contemptuously, discarding his soiled glove. "I do not understand why your species is so preoccupied with the act of mating. Irkens have evolved beyond that primitive need."

My heart was in my throat. I sat up. "How…why did you do that?"

Zim didn't respond. I realized he was formulating a lie—it was obvious from the way his eyes darted back in forth, searching for a plausible answer. He opened his mouth to speak, but was evidently distracted by a tumultuous crash in the adjacent room.

"I found him!" Zim's robot suddenly screeched, rocketing into view. I grabbed my boxers, covering myself.

"Dib wanted to talk to you," it informed.

" _Gir!_ " Zim roared, fumbling for his own uniform. "Go downstairs and do…something else!"

Gir stared uncomprehendingly. I pulled my pants on, reaching tentatively for my shirt.

" _Now,_ Gir!"

"D'aww, you're no fun," the robot whined at last. It proceeded to dash out of the room, emitting an eardrum-shattering squeal. I winced visibly at the sound.

Zim cleared his throat, annoyed. "I assume you wish to do this again sometime?"

I looked up, still disconcerted by the robot's reappearance. "Do you?"

"Yes," he said impassively, not meeting my gaze. "I suppose that would not be…completely undesirable."

He was lying through his teeth. I could tell. Zim had been my entire existence since his arrival on my planet—I didn't realize it until that moment. Without him, I had no purpose; I had always chased dreams and monsters, but I had never found anything as truly substantial as Zim. I needed him for my sanity. He was more than just a fabled monster to blindly follow—he was a realistic, tangible goal. The alien was my enemy, and now, something much more intimate. It terrified me that there might be feelings in myself for him beyond hatred—but it terrified me more that I could never hope for such feelings to be reciprocated. Zim's willingness to comply with my sexual desires was plainly, obviously a trap. It was evident in his voice inflection; it was easy to see in his eyes.

I sighed, deflated. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't say yes. I couldn't keep coming back here, having quick sex with my mortal enemy. He was bound to capture me sometime, and I couldn't risk my own death—not while the earth still needed me.

"So…will you be back?" Zim ventured.

"Definitely." I mentally slapped myself.

"I do look forward to it, Dib-worm."

I snatched my glasses off the floor, standing abruptly. "You're…" my voice faltered. I blinked back tears. "You're a fucking  _monster_ , do you know that? You're doing this all to me on purpose."

"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about, earth-monkey." Zim had pulled on the remainder of his uniform, and he drew himself up to his full height.

"You…you manipulative…" I shook my head sharply. "You know what, forget it. Forget it. I can't come back here."

I turned to leave.

"You're lying," Zim said quietly.

I rushed out the door, huffing. I knew he was right; and I was seriously starting to hate myself for it.


	3. Then He Ate My Brain

I came back. It took nearly a week of suppressing my emotions and increasingly demanding physical urges, but I came back. Zim opened the door and nodded knowingly; a new battle was simply added to our usual routine. It was struggle for dominance not unlike our childhood skirmishes—an impassioned physical fight in which all of my body and mind were engaged. I knew at any moment he might try to kill me, and that made the experience all the more exhilarating. My mind struggled to maintain control of my body, but I was grossly disadvantaged. I was a human teenager, and Zim was an Irken. I was horny and easily exhausted, while Zim had no particular urge for sex (although he seemed to enjoy it on several occasions) and no need for sleep.

I never fell asleep at Zim's house. It would've been suicide.

No matter my tiredness, no matter the hour, I always dragged myself home. Gaz wasn't particularly interested in my whereabouts; my father was simply happy I had found a friend.

Zim certainly wasn't my friend—he might have been an enemy and a lover, but nothing in between. My father didn't need to know that, however. He would've been disgusted by what I had done. My affinity for the alien wasn't helping my self-esteem in the slightest. I felt like everyone knew the repulsive thing I'd been doing. Skool was miserable. I hated myself, and I hated the feelings that had begun to grow.

At the moment of each orgasm, I had to bite my tongue. I had to be silent. I was afraid of what I might say. I might cry out, 'I love you' when I in all honesty didn't mean it. What I felt for Zim wasn't love. It was somewhere in between love and hate, some undefined emotion closer to insanity. But I was at my weakest beneath him; I was at my most vulnerable. So I fought ruthlessly for my dominant position, and in most cases I succeeded. I was stronger than Zim, should he not implement the metal arms in his pak. I was safest this way, although not entirely invulnerable.

But about a month after our encounters had begun, something changed. I became disheartened, dispassionate, and disillusioned with the world around me. Zim was all I had left.

I collapsed onto the couch and let him touch me. I let me mind fall away from my body. Zim could have easily killed me; I wouldn't have minded if he did. And that was all right.

It was a battle I no longer wanted to win.


End file.
